Perchance to Dream
by theatrical
Summary: My first story in my American Horror Story series. It's going to tie together Murder House and Coven. I'm really bad at descriptions, but please give it a chance, and review if you want me to continue!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **1996**

Emmaline stood on the lawn of the house next door to her own, staring up at the second story window. The blonde boy who stared down at her from the other side of the glass smiled; it didn't seem to be a menacing one, more… genuine. Warm. Gentle, even. The two-year-old held her small hand up to wave at him, and he waved back, the smile never leaving his features. She fixed her eyes on the front door, and started moving her tiny feet forward. When she got to the stairs, she paused for a moment. She hadn't quite mastered the stairs yet; Mama always carried her up and down them so she wouldn't hurt herself. Placing her hands down on the bricks, she picked one foot up and put it on the step. Before she could pull herself up, she felt hands on her waist, and she was being lifted off the ground.

"Emmaline, what have I told you about wandering off? You nearly gave mama a heart attack." Constance Langdon put the toddler on her hip, glanced up at the window once, locking eyes with her son. Tate grimaced at his mother, and she turned on her heel, walking back toward her own house.

"Sorry, mama." Emmaline apologized, burying her head in the crook of her mother's neck. She looked back at the boy in the window, and was filled with sadness. She wasn't sure why she wanted to go in that house and see him. Mama always taught her never to talk to strangers. But something with him felt different. He was a mystery, and the curious two year old longed to solve it.


	2. The Park

**Chapter One**

 **2000**

"Don't stray too far, Emmaline! Stay where I can see you." Emmaline looked back toward her mother, who was sitting on a park bench, wearing sunglasses and reading the latest issue of Glamour. Her older sister, Adelaide, sat next to their mother on the bench, scribbling in a sketch book. "Emmaline, did you hear me?"

"Yes, mama!" The six-year-old called back, rolling her eyes. She never understood why her mama was so protective over her. She wasn't that way with Adelaide. She continued her venture toward the swing set. There was only one swing left open, and she was determined for it to be hers. It was a particularly busy day at the park; the air was cool, and there was a soft breeze blowing. Her walk turned into a run, as she saw another child headed for the same swing. She had almost reached it, when she felt two small hands on her back, shoving her to the ground. "Hey!" Emmaline shouted, pushing herself up off the ground and dusting herself off. She fought back tears as she felt something warm and wet dripping down her forehead. The little boy stuck his tongue out at her, taking his place on the swing and kicking his feet. An overwhelming sense of rage filled Emmaline, and she narrowed her eyes, keeping them locked on the boy. His feet kicked back and forth, creating momentum to keep the swing moving.

"Too bad, slow-poke. Better luck next time." He taunted. Emmaline had never felt so angry in her life. She hadn't even gotten that angry at Addy when she'd broken Emmaline's piggybank and took all the money from it. All she could think about was him falling off the swing. She could see it clearly in her mind, and she wished for nothing more than for it to happen. She turned around and started walking back toward her mother to tell her what happened, when she heard a shrill scream from behind her. She quickly turned around, and saw the boy who'd just thrown her on the ground laying face-down in the rocks. Eyes widening, Emmaline turned back and sprinted toward her mother.

"Mama!" Her frantic voice called. "Mama, can we go home, please?"

"What's the matter, sweetheart? What happened to your forehead?" Constance asked, taking her sunglasses off and giving her daughter a concerned look.

"I'm not ready to go," Addy retorted, keeping her eyes on the sketchbook.

"Mama, please." Tears started falling from Emmaline's eyes. "Mama, please, I want to go home."

"Alright, darling." Constance stood from the bench, taking the sketchbook from Addy's hand and shoving it into her bag. "Come on, Addy. Emmaline, sweetheart, we'll get that scrape cleaned up when we get home, alright?" She took Emmaline's hand in her own and started walking down the sidewalk, an upset Adelaide trailing behind. Emmaline glanced back toward the swing set, where the boy's father was picking him up from the ground and rushing toward their car.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Later that afternoon, Emmaline sat on nook by her bedroom window, staring outside. She could scarcely see her reflection in the glass; she truly was the spitting image of her mother. Blonde hair, piecing blue eyes. She thought back to the year before, when a boy in her preschool class brought his father, who was a police officer, to show and tell. She went home that afternoon and went straight to Constance, inquiring about her daddy, and why he wasn't around. Constance explained that Emmaline had no father; that she was such a special girl, she didn't need one.

She heard a light knock on her bedroom door. "Emmaline? Sweetheart? Can I come in?" Constance spoke softly, peaking her head in the door.

"Sure, mama." She pulled her legs closer to herself, making room for her mother on the nook.

Constance walked over and sat next to her daughter. Emmaline kept her eyes down; since they'd left the park, she felt horribly guilty. She knew she'd made the kid fall off the swing, she just didn't know how. She'd only thought about it—she hadn't even laid a hand on him. "You know," Constance began. "Ever since you were big enough to be in your own bedroom, I'd come in here and this is where I'd find you. Most times you'd fall asleep, looking at your window at the stars." She smiled gently, putting a soft hand on her daughter's face. "Are you alright, darling? You've been awfully quiet since we left the park."

"Yes," Emmaline lied, still not meeting her mother's gaze. Tears started burning the brim of Emmaline's eyes, and she rested her forehead against her knees.

"Emmaline," Constance spoke, but the younger girl didn't respond. "Sweetheart, look at me." She did as she was told—she always did. She'd seen how her mother acted with Adelaide when she didn't listen. "You know you're mama's special little girl, don't you?"

"Yes, mama." Emmaline responded, as Constance wiped the tears from her daughter's face.

"And you know mama loves you more than anything in the world, right?" She asked, and Emmaline nodded. "You can tell me anything, darling."

Emmaline paused, not knowing how to word what she wanted to say. "I didn't trip and hurt my forehead. A little boy pushed me." She could see the rage that crossed her mother's face as soon as the words left her mouth. "He got on the swing I wanted to go on, and all I could think about was how bad I wanted him to fall off. And when I was walking away to find you, it happened. He fell off and he really hurt himself. And I think it was my fault, mama." She started crying even harder, and Constance's angry look flashed to panic, only for a second. Not long enough for Emmaline to notice. She gathered her daughter in her arms and pulled her into her lap, pulling her close.

"There, there, my sweet girl. It's just a coincidence. You couldn't have known it was going to happen." Constance kissed the top of Emmaline's head and started rocking back and forth gently. "My special girl," She cooed. "Mama's perfect, beautiful girl." Emmaline suddenly felt so at peace, so comfortable in her mother's embrace. She always knew how to calm her, to make her forget everything that was worrying her. They both wanted to be able to enjoy it longer, but within seconds, Emmaline was fast asleep.


	3. New Friends, Old Acquaintances

**Chapter Two  
** **2011**

Emmaline sat in the very spot she'd sat years before, staring out the window. Instead of starting at the sky, as she normally did, she was staring at the house next door. The house that she'd been so fascinated with since she was a child. She'd attempted many times to try to go there, to visit the strange boy who lived there, but no such luck. Either Constance would catch her before she was out the front door, or Adelaide would tell on her.

Emmaline knew she wasn't like most people her age; her mother always told her she had an old soul. She'd prefer spending her weekends in her bedroom or in the backyard reading, rather than sniffing coke and going to raves like the other kids in her grade. She'd never even been to a school dance, but that was more her mother's choice than her own.

She felt as if her entire life was a huge mystery. She didn't know much about her family history, aside from the ones who lived in the house. Emmaline knew she had an older brother, Beau, but he died before she was born. She had another brother who died when she was one, but she couldn't even remember what either of them looked like. Her kept all the pictures packed up from when they moved into the house. She still didn't know anything about her father, and Constance was still as stubborn with giving her any information about him as she'd always been. That was one of the most frustrating things to Emmaline—all the secrets kept from her. Even Addy wouldn't spill any information about her father or her brothers, and she did not mind gossiping any chance she got.

There was a moving truck out front of the house, and the new family looked interesting. They looked like a stereotypical cookie-cutter type of family. A mom, a dad, a dog. And a girl. Emmaline couldn't understand the feelings that bubbled up in her stomach when she saw the girl. She looked to be around the same age she was, maybe a little older. She stood out of the way with her arms crossed as the movers did their job. Her long, sandy brown hair hung past her shoulders, and she wore layers of clothes despite it being the middle of April. Emmaline bit her lip and rose from the nook, exiting her bedroom and heading toward Addie's room. She poked her head in and saw her sister passed out on her bed, soft snores coming from her mouth. Her mother had left minutes before, to go get groceries and cigarettes, so she'd be gone for an hour or two.

Emmaline knew this was her chance. The only time she was ever out of the house without Constance or Adelaide was when she was at school. There were times where her mother would randomly vanish, only to return an hour or so later, but she left Adelaide standing guard to make sure Emmaline didn't leave the house. Her mother was constantly smothering her, always telling Emmaline she was her "sweet, perfect girl." She ran quietly down the staircase, and into the kitchen. She couldn't just show up there empty handed, so she opened the fridge to see what they had that would pass as a "welcome to the neighborhood." She settled for the casserole Constance had made the night before. She took the tin foil off and stuck the glass pan in the microwave until it was warm, and spread it out to look as if it hadn't been eaten out of. She put a fresh piece of foil and quickly walked out the front door, closing it quietly behind her. She wished she'd looked in a mirror before leaving the house, but she shook the thought from her head as she walked down the sidewalk toward the house. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a strange feeling that she couldn't explain. The family had already gone inside, and the door was wide open, so she knocked on the frame before letting herself in.

"Hello?" Emmaline called, looking around. She could see the movers walking back and forth, putting boxes in different rooms, all at the direction of the older woman, who she assumed was the mother of the younger girl.

"Hey," The girl who Emmaline had been staring at turned the corner, eyeing her speculatively.

"Uhm, hi. I'm Emmaline, I live next door." She smiled, trying to play it cool but there were butterflies erupting in the pit of her stomach. "I brought this for you guys, as like a…welcome to the neighborhood thing, I guess." Emmaline handed the dish over, and the girl motioned for her to follow her into the kitchen. Emmaline followed her, feeling like a lost puppy trailing after it's mother.

"Violet," She introduced herself, putting the dish on top of the stove, and turning to face the girl, leaning on the countertop. "This sucks." She mumbled under her breath.

"What does?" Emmaline asked, resting her hands on the cool countertop.

"Moving. Uprooting my entire life because my dad's a jackass."

"Oh," Emmaline wasn't sure what to say, or why she found herself so tongue-tied around a person she'd just met. The two seemed to be almost polar opposites. Violet had a darker vibe; the layered clothes, the 'don't care' attitude, and Emmaline noticed the marks on her wrists from fresh cuts, along with older scars. Violet must have noticed her looking, because she pulled her sleeves down to cover them. "Sorry," She apologized. Emmaline was more light; light colored clothing, light blonde hair, and more of a 'please everyone' attitude.

"It's cool," Violet opened her mouth to say something else, when they were interrupted.

"You're going to die in here," Emmaline cringed, turning around to face her sister, who'd apparently entered the house moments earlier.

Violet's mom entered the kitchen, dawning a confused look. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?" She asked.

"Sorry," Emmaline apologized, walking over to her sister. "I'm Emmaline, and this is my sister Adelaide."

"Mom's going to be so mad at you," Addy whispered to Emmaline, snickering deviously.

"We'll get out of your way," Emmaline apologized and headed toward the door.

"Wait," Violet called. "Mom, can I go next door and hang with Emmaline for a bit?"

"Don't be long," Her mother replied. "You have to unpack your room."

The butterflies in her stomach started feeling like a flock of pigeons. She turned her head to face Violet, who had a small smile on her face. "You don't mind, do you?" She asked.

"N-no, of course not." Emmaline answered. "Let's go, Adelaide." Addy was staring at Violet's mother, who obviously looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I'm coming." Addy turned around and walked out the front door, and Emmaline and Violet followed behind.

"I needed to get out of there," Violet admitted. "My mom's been driving me nuts since this morning."

"Glad I could help," Emmaline laughed quietly, as they walked up the front steps and into their house.

"Where the hell have you been?" Constance was standing a few feet from the front door, and though Emmaline _and_ Adelaide had been gone, she was only starting at Emmaline. When she noticed Violet standing behind Emmaline, her demeanor changed, but only slightly.

"We just went to meet the family next door," Emmaline said gently, keeping her eyes on the floor.

Constance took a breath, before putting on the fakest smile Emmaline had ever seen on her mother's face. "Well, leave a note next time. Okay, darling? Addy, dear, why don't you into the living room and watch Dora the Explorer so Emmaline and I can talk."

"Can we do that later, mama? Violet wants to stay and hang out for a little while." She pleaded, giving her mother the best pouty look she could muster.

"Uh, it's alright." Violet awkwardly started backing out the front door. Panic sprung up in Emmaline's chest when she realized the horrible first impression Violet was getting of her mother. "I'd probably better go anyway; my mom will kill me if I don't get my room unpacked. But I can come back soon, if you want?" Emmaline thought she saw a glimmer of hope in Violet's eye, and she nodded—almost a little too enthusiastically. "See you later, Ems."

"Come back any time!" Constance's fake voice nearly made Emmaline vomit in her mouth.

Violet walked out the door, closing it behind her. Emmaline turned to face her mother, whose eyes were nearly glowing with rage. "Mama," She started. "I'm sorry."

Constance glowered at her child and turned around, walking into the kitchen. Emmaline sighed, following behind her. She _really_ didn't want to fight with her mother. Constance sat down at the table, opening one of her packs of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag. Emmaline sat at the table in the chair next to her, keeping her eyes down.

"I'm sorry, mama." Emmaline stated again, putting her hand on Constance's. Her mother looked her in the eyes, and it was a look she wasn't familiar with. She wasn't usually the type to go against her mother's word, and staying away from that house was her mother's main rule. "I just saw them moving in and I wanted to go say hello. That's all."

Constance continued silently smoking her cigarette, and the guilt Emmaline felt was almost eating her alive. She sighed and turned around, walking from the kitchen and up the stairs into her bedroom. She knew it'd probably be best to leave her mother alone until she calmed down—her mother had never been mad at _her_ , but she'd seen how she'd gotten with Addy a few times, and that was something Emmaline preferred to avoid.

She closed her bedroom door and sat on her nook yet again, staring out her window. A movement in one of the upstairs windows caught her attention. A familiar face stared back at her, and Emmaline's eyes widened. The blonde boy smiled softly, waving at her from the other side of the glass.


	4. A Change on the Horizon

**Chapter Three**

"You've seriously never listened to The Strokes?" Violet looked over at Emmaline, who was sitting on the edge of her bed, shrugging innocently.

"Mama never really let us listen to heavy metal music." She admitted, giving the other girl a sheepish smile. Emmaline finally convinced her mama to let her visit the Harmon's house after they'd been living there a few weeks, and Constance had the chance to introduce herself to them. Her only condition is that she stay out of the basement, which Emmaline thought was strange but brushed it off. She was just happy to be able to spend time with Violet.

"Your mom seems…nice." Violet put a record on her old vinyl record player and turned the volume up, then took a seat next to Emmaline on the bed.

"She is, really." Emmaline swore. "She's just… a little protective."

"I've noticed." Violet laughed softly, bumping her shoulder against Emmaline's playfully. Emmaline felt a spark when their arms touched, but she tried to brush it off. From the expression on Violet's face, she hoped she'd felt it too. "So what kind of music do you listen to?"

"She probably listens to Mozart or some other uptight shit." A voice from the doorway spoke. Emmaline and Violet both jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. Emmaline's eyes widened when she realized who it was; it was the blonde boy. The one she'd seen in the window the day Violet's family moved into the house. The one she'd seen as a child. She knew it couldn't have been the same person—maybe his kid, or his brother? She didn't really evaluate for long, as he spoke again.

"That's Tate," Violet informed her. "He lives down the street or some shit. My dad's his shrink, and he likes to pop up for unexpected visits."

"Don't act like you don't like it," Tate smirked, taking a seat on the floor in front of them.

"You can sit on the bed, you know." Violet told him.

"Nah, wouldn't want to give your old man another reason to try to get me to stay away from you." He winked at Violet, and Emmaline felt her heart sink. She could tell from the look in her eyes—Violet liked Tate. And he liked her, too.

"Uh, well, I'd better get home." Emmaline suddenly felt awkward.

"Don't go," Tate furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't want to run you off."

Emmaline could feel Violet's eyes on her, and could tell she was wondering why Emmaline was trying to leave. "Yeah, stay. Your mom isn't expecting you home until later." Violet said, putting her hand on Emmaline's leg. Emmaline looked over at Violet, who had a small smile on her face.

"Fine," She smiled slightly, sitting back down on the bed. "Tate, were you here the day they moved into the house?" Emmaline asked.

"No…" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

"I could have sworn I saw you… in the window. You look so familiar."

"Why were you looking in their window?" Tate raised an eyebrows, and though Emmaline knew he was teasing her, her face still flushed and turned a bright red.

"I live next door, a-and I sit on my window sill a lot and just look outside. Something caught my eye; I could have sworn it was you."

"Easy, I'm just teasing." Tate laughed, reaching over and grabbing a book from Violet's bedside table, flipping through the pages.

"Oh," She responded.

"Do you go to the same school as Violet?" Tate asked, not taking his eyes off the book.

"No," Emmaline sighed. "I go to Sister Mary Margaret's a few blocks over."

"A Catholic school?" Tate raised his eyebrow again, looking up from the pages.

"Em's mom is a little…neurotic." Violet answered for Emmaline, which made her blush again. Over the last two weeks the two had really gotten to know each other. They hung out every day after school, whether it was there or at her own house. "She won't let her go to Westfield because of some wicked shooting they had there, like, ten years ago."

"Let me get this straight." Tate stood from the floor. "Your mom won't let you go to a public school because of a shooting ten years ago, but will let you go to Sister Mary Margaret's where all the students are either on drugs, about to be on drugs, or have parents who are on drugs?"

"Seems to be the case," Emmaline responded.

"Well, your mom sounds like a nutcase." Tate said.

Emmaline suddenly felt defensive of her mother. "She's not that bad," She retorted.

"If you say so," Tate absentmindedly responded, pacing around the room.

Emmaline caught a glance shared between Tate and Violet, which brought up the same feeling she had earlier. Was she feeling…jealous? There was no way that could be.

"Emmaline!" She heard a voice call from downstairs. "Darling, I forgot I have a hair appointment in a few minutes."

"What does that have to do with you?" Tate asked.

"Her mom won't let her stay here if she isn't home." Violet replied for Emmaline again, and the two shared a quick smile.

"Sweetheart, are you up there?" Constance called again, and she heard her mother's heels up the stairs. She appeared in Violet's doorway. "Oh, there you are—" Constance turned to look at Tate, and her expression changed suddenly. It was an expression Emmaline couldn't understand—she almost looked angry, but like she was masking it well. "Come on, darling, let's go. Addy's waiting in the car."

"Alright, mama." Emmaline stood from the bed, looking at Violet. "My house tomorrow?" Violet nodded. "Tate, you can come over too, if you want." She really didn't want to invite him, but she really didn't want to be rude, either. Emmaline looked to her mother, whose eyes widened but she remained silent.

"Nah, it's ok. I have another appointment with Dr. Harmon tomorrow, anyway." He walked toward the bedroom door. "I gotta get going, too. See ya Violet, Emmaline." He looked at Constance. "Ma'am," and swept out the door.

"I'll call you later, Violet." Emmaline smiled and walked out of Violet's bedroom and down the stairs. She and her mother walked out the front door and got into her mother's car, which was waiting on the street. Constance silently got into the car and started driving down the road. Addy was in the backseat with headphones on, watching a TV show on her tablet. "Mama?" Emmaline broke the silence.

"Yes, darling?" Constance cracked the car window and lit a cigarette.

"Why did you make that face when you walked into the room and saw Tate there?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Constance's response sounded dry, and the tone caught Emmaline off guard.

"You looked angry," She contradicted her mother, who laughed sarcastically.

"I just didn't like the idea of walking into a teenage girl's bedroom, where _my_ teenage daughter was supposed to be studying, and finding a boy in there with them." Constance exhaled a stream of smoke. "You would think since the Harmons were such a _perfect_ family, they wouldn't let their daughter act like a little whore and have that boy in her room."

"Mama, don't call her that." The need to defend Violet rose suddenly, and she felt the attitude slip into her tone, which surprised Constance, who looked at her daughter with a shocked expression.

"Excuse me?"

"Violet isn't a whore, mama. She's my friend. My _best_ friend. And Tate was only there for a few minutes before you barged in." Emmaline crossed her arms over her chest, starting forward out the windshield as she spoke.

"Tate?" Addy spoke up from the back seat. "Did you say Tate?"

"Hush, Adelaide. Put your headphones back on. This is a private discussion." Constance snapped, pulling the car into the parking lot of the beauty salon.

"How does she know Tate?" Emmaline asked, furrowing her brow in confusion. Addy left the house about as often as Emmaline did; how had Addy met Tate, but she didn't?

"She doesn't. You know she has no idea what she's talking about," Constance turned the car off.

"Yes, she does! Mama, why are you so mean to her?" Emmaline wished she could take back the words as soon as she'd said them. The next thing she knew, she felt a sharp pain against her cheek as her mother's hand collided with her face.

"I don't know what kind of bug crawled up your ass, Emmaline Margaret, but you will not speak to me that way. Not now, not ever." Constance grabbed her purse from the floorboard and opened the car door. "Come on, let's go inside."

"I'm staying out here," Emmaline kept her eyes away from her mother's face, and her hand on her cheek.

"Sweetheart," Constance's tone changed. "You can't stay out here by yourself."

"I'll be in in a minute." Emmaline snapped.

"Fine," Constance put her hands in the air in frustration. "Fine. But if you aren't in the salon in five minutes, I'm sending Adelaide out here to get you."

"Fine," Emmaline kept her response short.

"And lock the car when you come inside." Constance got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Addy got out right after, following her mother into the hair salon. The tears started falling as soon as Emmaline was alone. She didn't know what was wrong with her—why she felt the urgency to defend Violet, why for the first time in her life she had a bad attitude toward her mother, or why she felt so angry. She started feeling claustrophobic; like she was suffocating inside the car. She opened the door, and pressed the button to lock the doors before stepping out. She took a few deep breaths, but nothing would calm her anxiety. She started pacing back and forth, but nothing seemed to help. She knew Adelaide would be outside to get her soon if she didn't go inside, but she didn't want her mother to see how upset she was. Even though Constance was the cause of it, Emmaline felt guilty letting her mother see her cry. She started walking, away from the car and the salon.

Emmaline walked for a few minutes, down the street she was so familiar with. She'd been there hundreds of times; Constance got her hair done at least twice a month. She knew what she what she was doing was wrong, and that her mother and sister would worry, but she needed time. She needed space. Constance's constant hovering and overreactions seemed to be taking a stronger toll on her than they had before—she assumed because of the fight they'd gotten in. She really didn't want to be around her for a while, but at the same time, she didn't want to be alone. As she continued walking, she pulled her phone from her pocket and called the only person she wanted to see.

"Hello?" Violet answered.

"Um, hey," Emmaline spoke, her voice cracking from the tears that were still falling.

"Ems? What's wrong?" Violet's voice radiated concern.

"I'll explain later; can you come meet me?"

"Where?"

"The beach."

"I'm on my way."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"I can't believe your mom did that," Violet took a long drag off a cigarette, before passing it over to Emmaline.

"Yeah, me either." Emmaline could feel her phone constantly buzzing in her jacket pocket, but she ignored it. "She's never done that before. Not to me, anyway." She took a drag off the cigarette, fighting back the urge to cough and handing it back to Violet as she exhaled.

"Does your mom, like, love you more than Addy?" Violet put the cigarette between her lips.

"I don't think it's that she loves me more than Addy," Emmaline contemplated for a minute. "I think I'm just easier to care for than she is."

"Is Addy your only sibling?"

"I had two brother, but they died a long time ago."

"What were they like?" Violet asked, and Emmaline knew she was trying to get her mind off the situation at hand.

"I don't know." She admitted. "Beau died before I was born. The only thing I know about him was he had some kind of genetic mutations or something, and he died in his sleep. My other brother…" She looked at Violet. "This might sound crazy, but I don't even remember his name. I was only one when he died, and mama never talks about him. She never answers any of my questions about him."

"She won't even tell you his name?" Violet passed the cigarette back to Emmaline, raising her eyebrows.

"Nope," She took another drag, this one going down easier.

"That's some weird shit," Violet went quiet for a minute. "Can I ask you something?"

Emmaline threw the cigarette toward the water. "Anything," She said sheepishly.

"Why did you suddenly want to leave when Tate showed up earlier?"

Emmaline looked away, toward the water. She didn't know how to answer that question without sounding like an idiot. "I don't know," She admitted.

"You know Tate and I are just friends, right?" Violet asked, and Emmaline looked back at the girl sitting next to her.

"Why would that matter?" Emmaline asked, though deep down she knew why the answer to her own question.

Violet didn't say anything else. She put her hand under Emmaline's chin, which caused that same electric spark she felt when their arms touched earlier. Her heart started pounding so hard she was sure Violet could have seen it through her chest. Her face got closer, to the point where she could feel Violet's gentle breaths on her face. "What are you doing?" Emmaline whispered, but instead of answering, Violet gently pressed her lips to Emmaline's kissing her softly. She knew it wasn't supposed to feel right but _oh boy,_ it did. Emmaline parted her lips, kissing her back, putting a hand gently on the side of Violet's face. Emmaline didn't know if heaven or hell actually existed, but if there were a such thing as heaven, this was the closest she'd ever gotten to it.


	5. Overprotected

**Chapter Four**

"Is this dream that I'm going to wake up from in the morning?" Emmaline said softly as she and Violet walked down the street, hand in hand. They stayed on the beach for a few hours after the kiss, just talking and getting to know each other more. Violet even admitted to having the same butterflies in her stomach as Emmaline the first time they'd met.

"I sure hope not," Violet laughed softly, using her other hand to gently stroke Emmaline's arm.

"I just have to face the nightmare that's waiting for me inside my house." Emmaline's chest felt tight as they turned the corner onto their street, where they saw police lights flashing outside of her house. "Shit," She whispered, and she felt her heartbeat start to accelerate. Her palms started to sweat, and Violet gave them a gentle squeeze to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Before they reached the house, Emmaline gave Violet a quick kiss goodbye and told her to go into the house; she didn't want Constance knowing who she was with. She knew her mother would never let her see that person again, and it would tear her apart if she was never allowed to see Violet again. She hesitated by the front fence, taking a few deep, shaky breaths before opening it and walking up the sidewalk to her front door. She took another moment to breathe with her hand on the doorknob before turning it and walking into the house.

"Emmaline?" Her mother's frantic voice called from the kitchen. Constance walked quickly from the kitchen into the foyer. Before Emmaline could utter even a syllable, Constance's arms were wrapped tightly around her, broken sobs shaking her body as she pulled her daughter close. After what felt like an eternity of being in her arms, Constance held her out at arms-length, tightly squeezing her shoulders. "Where the hell have you been?!"

The police officers walked from the kitchen and dismissed themselves out the front door. "I-I was…" Emmaline's voice kept faltering, though she really didn't want to seem weak in front of her mother.

"You were with that girl from next door, weren't you? Violet?" Constance's relief quickly turned into fury as she let go of Emmaline's shoulders and stalked back into the kitchen. She grabbed a cigarette from the table, lighting it as Emmaline entered the room.

"No, mama, I wasn't with Violet." Emmaline lied, and she knew she probably didn't sound too convincing. "I just needed some…space."

"Space? You had me worried sick for hours, because you needed space?" Constance scoffed, taking another long drag from her cigarette, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Yes, mama. I'm sorry. I just needed some time to breathe." Emmaline sat down next to her, putting a gentle hand on her mother's arm.

"I don't understand why you'd feel that way." Constance shook her head, exhaling smoke into the air. "I have given you _everything_ ; everything you've ever needed, wanted, _everything_. And you repay me but acting like an ingrate and running off. What the hell was going through your head, Emmaline? You've always been so level-headed, and ever since that girl moved in next door, you've acted like a completely different person. What happened to me sweet girl?"

"Violet has _nothing_ to do with this, mama. And nothing happened to me; I'm growing up. What's so bad about that?" Emmaline eyed her mother, not understanding why Constance was making such a big deal about what happened, or why she felt the need to constantly blame Violet.

"Why are you so quick to defend her? Her family is awful, and her mother has the worst taste I've _ever_ seen." Constance shook her head, putting her cigarette out and immediately lighting another.

"Because she has nothing to do with it. You're so quick to blame other people when…" Emmaline stopped herself; she could feel herself getting more and more angry, and she knew if she didn't walk away, she'd say something she'd regret. She stood from the table and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Constance trailing closely behind her.

"When what, Emmaline?" Constance raised her voice, following her daughter into her bedroom. Emmaline spun around to face her, taking a deep breath before releasing the words that she'd been holding on to for so long.

"When it's very obviously _your_ fault. I didn't run off because Violet _made_ me, I ran off because _smother_ me, mama. You never give me any space, or any room to breathe. I needed to get away from you for a while." Emmaline felt tears burning her eyes, but she fought them off—she wasn't about to look weak in front of Constance when she was finally getting out the words she'd been dying to say her entire life. "I can't even go see my _only_ friend unless you're home, and even then, you just pop up whenever you want to check on me! I'm not a child anymore, mama. I need to be able to spend time with someone other than you or Addy."

"So, you're mad at me because you think I smother you?" Constance's voice sounded surprisingly calm, which scared her more than her mother yelling at her. She shook her head in what only Emmaline could guess was disbelief. "I have surrounded my entire _life_ around you, Emmaline. I have given you everything— _everything,_ Emmaline."

"I get that, mama. I understand." Emmaline approached her mother, taking her hands and giving her a pleading look. "And I never ask you for _anything_ , so I'm asking for this one thing. Just, please, let go. Give me a little space. I'm _begging_ you."

"You know what?" Constance threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. You can have all the space you want. I won't even bother you anymore." She pulled her hands away and turn to leave the room. This reminded Emmaline why she never had this conversation with her mother—fear she would give up on her.

"Wait, mama. Please, don't go." Emmaline grabbed her hand and Constance turned around; Emmaline could see the tears in her mother's eyes, and she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. "Mama, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. I don't want you to cut yourself completely from my life. I just want a little more freedom. That's all I'm asking of you." Her tears started to fall, and Emmaline didn't care about looking strong anymore. "I need you, mama."

Constance stayed silent for a few minutes. "Fine," She sighed. "Fine. But if you're going to be next door with that girl… you need to know the truth about that house."


	6. The Truth Revealed

**Chapter Five**

"What are you talking about?" Emmaline speculated, raising an eyebrow at her mother. Constance arose from the bed.

"All in good time, darling. I have a friend of mine who is going to come meet you next week. Until then… you can spend time there. Just… be careful who you make friends with. That's all I'm saying." Constance leaned over her bed and kissed Emmaline gently on her forehead. "I'll think about what you said tonight, and you do the same. I love you, my sweet girl."

oxoxoxoxoxo

"So, did your mom flip her shit when you got home last night?" Violet asked. The two of them were laying in Violet's bed, smoking a cigarette, Stevie Nicks playing on the record player in the background.

"That's an understatement," Emmaline laughed half-heartedly, taking a drag off the cigarette before handing it back to Violet. "She was acting weird, though… she said she needed to tell me about the truth of this house, your house. But she said someone's coming to our house next week to tell me about it."

"Are you talking about the fact that they call this place the 'Murder House'?"

"What are you talking about?"

Violet sat up, throwing the cigarette out their open window before turning to face Emmaline. "Dude, have you been living under a rock or something? We're a stop on the tour of the most haunted places in LA."

"I told you, the only way mama ever let me leave this house is if she was with me or I was going to school."

"Either way, this house has a fucked-up back story." Violet shook her head. "But let's not talk about that right now…" She bit her lip nervously, looking down at her hands. "Look, about last night…"

"Here we go…" Emmaline whispered, looking down at her hands.

Violet put a gentle hand under her chin and lifted her face to face hers. "What do you mean, 'here we go'?"

"You regret it, don't you?"

"Of course not," Violet looked confused as she put a gentle hand on the side of Emmaline's face. "No, I could never regret it. In fact," Emmaline's heart started beating faster and faster. "I wanted to ask you something…"

"Anything," Emmaline said, and she knew she sounded way too eager.

"Are we… you know…"

"Are we what?" Emmaline asked, though she knew very well what Violet meant.

"You know…" Violet looked just as nervous as Emmaline felt. Smiling softly to herself, Emmaline leaned in, kissing Violet gently on the lips. Just like the first time they'd kissed, she felt the sparks fly between them. It was almost as if the entire world had disappeared, and there was nothing left to the world other than the two of them.

When they parted, Emmaline put a soft hand on the back of Violet's sandy brown hair. "Yes," She answered the other girl's question. "I think we are."

"I've, uh, never exactly had a girlfriend before, so I'll apologize in advance if I'm not very good at it," She laughed nervously, intertwining her fingers with Emmaline's.

"I could say the same thing," Emmaline responded, laughing softly.

"Well, it's about damn time." A voice called from the doorframe and Emmaline jumped, startled, looking at the door. "Violet hasn't stopped talking about you since the day we met."

"Tate," Violet looked down, embarrassed, her face flushed a bright red color. Emmaline used her thumb to stroke the top of Violet's hand gently.

"I'm just saying," He entered the room laughing, and pulled out Violet's desk chair before sitting down. "I'm happy for you guys. Wish I could find someone," He admitted in a dejected tone.

"You will," Emmaline spoke up. "You're great, Tate."

"Yeah, but it isn't that easy," Tate laughed, like there was some joke Emmaline wasn't in on.

"Do you think your mom would let you spend the night? It's not a school night." Violet looked hopeful, and it was a lot more enthusiastic than Emmaline felt.

"I don't know; after what happened yesterday, I'm surprised she even let me out of the house. But… I think things will get better from here."

"Why do you think that?" Tate asked, fidgeting with a pencil he'd grabbed off Violet's desk.

"I don't know… I think I might have gotten through to her." Emmaline smiled softly, thinking back to the conversation from the previous night. Though it was harsh and tense at first, things had slowly gotten better toward the end of the night. And that morning before school, her mother hadn't brought up anything from the day before; she even fixed her a bag-lunch and kissed her forehead before dropping her off at school.

Tate scoffed, and Emmaline gave him a curious look. He shook his head, and Emmaline's curiosity deepened. "Do you know something about my mother that I don't?" She asked. Tate shrugged his shoulders, and she started feeling a little irritated. Emmaline always felt like people were keeping secrets from her, and it was one of her biggest pet peeves. "What, Tate?"

Tate sighed. "Now's not the right time."

"Why do people keep saying that to me?" She looked from Tate to Violet. "Do _you_ know something I don't know?"

"Of course, not…" Violet said, though she sounded unsure.

"What the fuck is going on?" She released Violet's hand and stood up from the bed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. She looked out the window, up at the full moon. "Why does everyone feel the need to keep secrets from me?"

"Look," Violet stood up and approached Emmaline, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I don't know much about your mom, but I can tell you what I do know." Violet looked at Tate for approval, who nodded. "Just call your mom and ask her if you can stay, alright? Then Tate and I will tell you everything."

Emmaline sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll try. But I can't guarantee anything." She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, clicked on her home phone number, and listened as it rang.

"Hello?" Constance answered.

"Hey, mama… I know it's a long shot, but would it be alright if I spent the night over here tonight? Violet has a project due Monday and she needs my help."

"Well, couldn't you just go back tomorrow and help her?" Constance asked, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Mama, please. I've never slept out before." Emmaline pleaded to her mother.

"Fine," Constance finally said after a moment of silence. "But I want to talk to Dr. Harmon; I'll be over there in a minute."

"Fine," She said.

"I love you, darling."

Emmaline rolled her eyes, hanging the phone up. "She's coming talk to your parents; we'll see how that goes." Emmaline and Violet exchanged a quick kiss, and Tate rolled his eyes.

"I'll be back once your mother leaves," He stood up and walked out of the room, and Emmaline looked curiously at Violet.

"You'll understand later," She kissed Emmaline's hand, and they heard the front door open. The two of them walked downstairs and into the kitchen, where Vivien was already seated at the counter, and Moira was making a pot of tea. Emmaline and Violet took a seat at the counter, hiding their intertwined fingers under the table so their parents wouldn't see. Emmaline didn't feel like explaining their relationship to her mother yet; she wanted to enjoy sleeping at Violet's house as much as she could, because once Constance found out they were together, she most likely wouldn't let it happen again.

"Hello, darling." Constance smiled at her daughter, then looked at Violet, giving her a speculative look before turning her attention back to Vivien.

"So, why the unexpected visit, Constance?" Moira spoke as she slid the cup of tea in front of the other woman. "It's impolite to show up unannounced."

"I don't know how you handle her, Mrs. Harmon. I wasn't aware the _help_ could speak to guests any way they please." Constance shot a harsh glare at Moira, and Emmaline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Why was her mother treating the Harmon's maid that way?

"Moira, could you please finish dusting in Ben's office?" Vivien asked, trying not to look annoyed with Constance's presence.

"Of course, Mrs. Harmon. My apologies for talking out of turn," And with that, Moira left the kitchen.

"Where's your husband?" Constance asked, and Emmaline could tell she was being nosey rather than curious. That was her mother's most prominent trait—she was as nosey as they came.

"He had to go out of town to meet up with a client," Vivien answered, then blew on her tea to cool it down. "He should be back on Monday."

"And you'll be home all weekend?" Constance asked, and Vivien raised an eyebrow at her. Emmaline could feel her palms sweating. This would be the first time her mother ever let her sleep away from home, and she felt extremely nervous. Violet rubbed her thumb gently against the top of Emmaline's hand and she immediately started to calm down.

"I plan to, yes." Vivian looked at Constance curiously, then glanced over at Emmaline and Violet.

"Well," Constance sighed, looking over at Emmaline. "My daughter has asked to spend the night here with your daughter. And I just wanted to talk to you about it before I give her an answer."

"Well, I'm fine with that!" Vivien smiled. "Emmaline's been very sweet and well-behaved since she and Violet started being friends."

"You don't understand, though, Mrs. Harmon," Constance let out a nervous chuckle, and Emmaline could tell she was worried. "Emmaline has never spent the night away from home before."

"Mama," Emmaline spoke up. "It's right next door from home, and I'll have my phone on me so you can call me any time you need to check on me. I promise we won't go anywhere; we'll just stay here and paint each other's toenails or something. You know, sleepover stuff." Violet gave Emmaline a strange look, and she shrugged in response.

"They'll be fine here, Constance. I'll make sure to check up on them." Vivien assured Constance.

Constance tapped her fingers on the counter, contemplating. With every passing silent moment, Emmaline felt her heartbeat accelerate. "Fine," She looked at Emmaline. "Fine, you can spend the night. But keep your phone on you." Emmaline jumped up from the counter in excitement and hugged her mother tightly.

"Oh, thank you, mama! Thank you!" She knew she probably looked stupid for getting so excited, but it was true when Emmaline said Constance never let her do anything.

"Alright, alright. You're welcome, darling." Constance patted her daughter's arm. "Come home really quick and grab your things."

"I'll be right back!" She looked at Violet, who smiled back at her.

"I'll make you two something to eat," Vivien stood up from the counter and was walking to the fridge when Emmaline exited the house. She walked next door to their own home with her mother, who stayed silent for the walk.

Constance followed Emmaline up to her room and stood in the doorway as she excitedly packed her bag. "Are you sure you'll be alright, darling? You can always stay home. Me you and Addy can bake some cupcakes; just like we used to." Her mother approached her, putting her hands gently on the sides of Emmaline's face.

"I'll be okay, mama. I promise." Emmaline wrapped her arms around her mother's waist and pulled her into a tight hug. "We can bake cupcakes with Addy tomorrow night."

Constance wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her close and taking a deep breath. "Alright, darling. But promise me something."

"Anything, mama."

"Stay out of the basement." Constance held Emmaline out at arm's length, looking in her eyes. When Constance did that, Emmaline felt like her mother could see right into her soul.

"The basement?" Emmaline looked at her curiously.

"Trust me, darling. And promise me," Constance pleaded, and Emmaline nodded her head.

"I promise, mama."

oxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Alright, it's midnight." Tate spoke. "Let's get this shit started." The three of them held candles in their hand, and Emmaline felt like they were in the stone ages. They snuck down the stairs, and when Tate opened the basement door, Emmaline hesitated.

"Wait," She could feel her voice shaking. "My mom said not to go down there. She made me promise."

"Well your mom isn't here, is she?" Tate smirked when he spoke, his face only illuminated by the candle.

"It'll be alright," Violet assured Emmaline, gently taking her hand.

Emmaline's gut was telling her to refuse. To go back upstairs to Violet's room and not care about the strange mysteries surrounding her. Better yet, she was so afraid, she wanted to run home, curl up in bed with her mama and watch Golden Girls like they did when she was a child. She did not want to me going in some creepy dark basement with her girlfriend and a boy she hardly knew.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and her nerves were at their worst. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she followed Tate and Violet to the middle of the damp room. They all sat in a circle, putting the candles in the middle of them. The longer they sat there in silence, the creepier it got.

"Alright, I think I need to start by telling you the history of this house," Tate gave a menacing grin, and started to delve into the entire history of the house they were currently sitting in. The entire story gave Emmaline goosebumps, though she didn't know whether she believed him. "Do you believe in ghosts?" He asked. Emmaline shook her head no. "Well… you should."

Suddenly a strong, cold gust of wind blew through the basement. The candles blew out, and just as Emmaline went to scream, Tate was suddenly behind her, covering her mouth with his hand.

"Tate, stop it!" Violet yelled, and Tate shushed her.

"Tell me what you know about your brother," Tate whispered into her ear, moving his hand from her mouth.

"They're both dead," Tears of horror filled Emmaline's eyes.

"What were their names?" He asked.

"Beau… and I didn't know the other one's name. My mom never told me. Can you please let me go?!" Emmaline yelled, trying to fight her way out of Tate's arms.

"Tate, come on, this is going too far!" Violet yelled, trying to pull his arm away from Emmaline. "Just tell her, Tate!"

"Tell me what?!" Emmaline screamed. "What the fuck is going on?!"

The light in the basement suddenly switched on, and at the top of the stairs, Emmaline saw her mother standing in her nightgown and robe, arms crossed over her chest.

"Tate… let your sister go."


	7. Fight or Flight

**Chapter Six**

"Mama?" Emmaline sat on the floor, her mouth agape, still reeling at the words her mother had just said. "What are you talking about?"

"Mommy dearest never told you the truth about you; about our family." Tate glared hatefully at their mother, who was now descending the stairs. "About this house."

"I was trying to protect her, Tate. Unlike you, who apparently just wanted to scare the shit out of her. Come on, Emmaline. We're going home," Constance grabbed her daughter's arm, hoisting her up off the floor.

"No," Emmaline protested, pulling her arm away from Constance. She put her hands on her hair and turned away, trying to make sense of what was happening. "No, I'm not going home. Not until I understand what the _fuck_ is going on!"

Violet sat on the floor helplessly looking at Emmaline, who felt like she was losing her mind. Nothing was making sense.

"Emmaline, let's go home. _Now_ ," Constance's voice got more stern, and normally this was a voice Emmaline wouldn't ignore. But instead of listening, Emmaline leaned her head against the wall, refusing to move. "Emmaline."

"Suddenly decided to take up the role of Carol Brady, did we, Constance? The picture-perfect mother?" Tate teased, standing up from the floor to face his mother. "Why haven't you told her about me? Huh? About this house? You know she'd find out eventually!" Tate's voice grew louder with every word he spoke.

"Shut your mouth, Tate!" Constance slapped Tate across the face, and Emmaline turned around. The look she saw in her mother's eyes; the anger, and the worry that hid behind them, was almost enough to make Emmaline hide in the corner. "I was trying to protect your sister!"

"Oh yeah? Like you protected Beau?"

"Beau died in his _sleep!_ You _know_ that, Tate!" Constance yelled, throwing her hands in the air angrily. Violet got off the floor and ran over to Emmaline to comfort her; at that moment, neither of them cared if Constance saw the intimate way Violet was stroking Emmaline's hair.

"NO!" Tate screamed. "No, he didn't! Her—" He pointed a finger at Emmaline. "—dickhead father killed him!"

"My father? Mama, what's he talking about?" Emmaline pushed out of Violet's arms, approaching her mother.

"Christ, Tate!" Constance screamed; Emmaline had no idea how Violet's mother wasn't getting woken up by all the noise coming from the basement.

"So, she doesn't know about him, either?" Tate raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Who are you trying to protect here, ma? Emmaline, or yourself?"

The room got silent. Violet walked up behind Emmaline, wrapping her arms around her waist. She put a hand on Violet's arm, which was covered in goosebumps. Constance's eyes were on the two of them, and her expression softened. "Emmaline, let's go home."

Emmaline looked at Violet, who looked heartbroken. "I'll call you," She whispered to her girlfriend, and walked away. When she approached her mother, Constance wrapped her arm around Emmaline's shoulder and they walked up the stairs, out of the basement, and out the front door.

oxoxoxoxoxo

"Three years you were born," Constance started, lighting a cigarette as the two of them sat at the kitchen table. Emmaline grabbed one of Constance's cigarettes, lighting it, not caring whether her mother had anything to say about it. After the night she'd had, she needed it. "I met Lawrence Harvey. I lived here, and he lived next door. I lived in that house when the other children were born, but after their father left, I lost it. I was so… desperate… to get back into that house, that I started having an affair with Lawrence. It lasted about a year and a half, then his wife and children died, and we got to move back in." She took a drag off her cigarette, creating a dramatic pause. "I found out I was pregnant with you after about a year of living there. I was so excited… but terrified. Beau," She handed Emmaline a picture of Beau, whose face was almost so horribly disfigured that it brought tears to her eyes. "Beau died in his sleep. And everything just went downhill from there. When you were a year old, your father brought you to work with him. Had you downstairs in the daycare while he worked in his office upstairs. Tate walked into his office, poured gasoline on him, and lit him on fire."

"Is he dead?" Emmaline asked, not fighting the tears anymore. She was so confused, hurt, felt betrayed… she didn't know how to feel.

"Unfortunately, not," Constance rolled her eyes. "He still pops up from time to time. Either way, after that Tate went and shot up his high school, and got himself killed by the SWAT team."

"That's not possible, mama. None of this is possible!" Emmaline put her head in her hands, letting the sobs escape from deep within her chest.

"Emmaline, you've always been so open-minded. You need to keep your mind open to survive, dear." Constance laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That house… it's special. If you die in that house, you never truly leave it."

"So… let me get this straight. Tate is my brother. And he's dead."

"That's right," Constance confirmed, putting her cigarette out.

Emmaline took a long drag from her own, putting it out in the ash tray. She wasn't sure whether she should believe her. Before this happened, she thought her mother had never lied to her. But, she found out her entire life was based around a lie. The betray and resentment she felt toward Constance was a feeling she'd never felt before, and instead of saying anything more about it, she stood up and ran upstairs. She slammed her bedroom door and locked it, and went to her window to sit on the nook. She sat down and looked over at the house next door, and she could see Violet in the window. She picked up her phone dialing her number. She answered on the first ring.

"Are you okay?" Violet asked, and Emmaline could see her pushing the curtains farther to the side so she could see her better.

"No," Emmaline had tried to fight back her sobs, but she was so overwhelmed with these feelings that she couldn't. "How long have you known, Violet? How long have you been lying to me?"

"I wasn't lying to you, Emmaline. Tate asked me not to say anything to you. He wanted to tell you himself." Her voice sounded sad and desperate.

"But you _knew_ , you KNEW how I felt my life was this huge, empty mystery and you knew the answers all along. How can I ever trust you?" Emmaline felt so heartbroken, like everyone around her was lying to her.

"I'm coming over there, Emmaline." The line went dead. Ten minutes later, Violet was knocking on her bedroom door.

"Em, open up. Please."

She could hear Constance behind her. "Don't bother, dear. You may as well go home."

Emmaline stood up from her nook and crossed the room to her bedroom door, unlocking it and grabbing Violet's hand, pulling her in before slamming the door in her mother's face and locking it back. She heard her mother sigh, and heard footsteps, then Constance's bedroom door closed.

"Please, let me just explain." Violet begged, pulling her over to the bed and sitting her down. She sat next to her, pulling her close. Emmaline leaned her head on Violet's chest. She could hear her heart beating faster and faster with every breath; she could tell she was nervous. "Tate made me promise not to say anything. He's been wanting to tell you for a long time; he said since he saw you standing in the front yard when you were little." The memory came flooding back to her; standing on the front lawn. Staring up at the window. Seeing Tate staring down. Trying to get to him. That all made sense. "He was afraid."

"Of what?" Emmaline pulled herself out of Violet's arms. "Me?"

"No, Em. He's afraid of your mother."

"I find that hard to believe."

"There's a lot you don't know about her."

"Is that something else you're keeping from me?"

"No, Em." Violet put her hand on the side of Emmaline's face. "No, he wouldn't tell me. That's something you'll have to talk to her about."

"Why should I believe you, Violet?"

"Because… because Em… I love you."

Emmaline's eyes widened, and turned to look into Violet's eyes. "What did you say?"

"I said I love you."

"There's no way; we haven't been together that long…" Though Emmaline was saying that, she knew deep down that she loved Violet too.

"But it feels like it's been years… it feels like we've been together for years. It's true, Emmaline. I love you, and I would never do anything to hurt you." Violet's eyes were welling up with tears, and though the night had been so surreal and stressful, Emmaline nodded.

"I agree… and… I love you, too."

Violet's eyes brightened, and a small smile spread across her features. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really." Emmaline smiled brightly, leaning in and kissing her gently. The kiss deepened, and the two laid down on the bed. With her fingers intertwined with Violet's, their lips moving in the same perfect harmony, it felt like that night never happened. All Emmaline felt was pure bliss.


	8. Epilogue

**Eiplogue**

A month passed quickly. Emmaline spent all the time she could with Violet, while balancing time with her family. She got to know her brother a little better, and her mother lightened up a bit once she told Emmaline the truth about her family and her house. It took Emmaline a few days to come to terms with it; the next morning when Violet left, Emmaline didn't leave her bed except to go to the bathroom. And the day after that. And the day after that. She missed school, despite her mother's nagging for her to leave the room. Constance was trying to cover up her worry, but she was failing. "This is exactly what I was trying to protect you from," She'd say over and over. Until Emmaline woke up one morning, and went about her normal routine like nothing ever happened.

It was finally Summer break. Emmaline had so many things planned for she and Violet, and she couldn't have been more excited. She had a planner full of things; water parks, museums, things her mother never let her do before. She'd ran next door to tell Violet all about their plans for the day, when she found her girlfriend sitting at the kitchen counter with her head in her hands. The only thing that could be heard in the silent room was Violet's sniffles.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Emmaline put the planner down on the counter, suddenly overwhelmed with concern. She furrowed her eyebrows and walked around the island, wrapping her arms around Violet's waist. "What's going on?"

"We're moving."

Just like that, Emmaline felt like her whole world was crashing around her. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, and she felt like she'd gotten the wind knocked out of her. "Where? Why? I… I don't understand."

"We're moving to New Orleans, just me and my mom. She caught my dad and Hayden in bed together again, and she said she's done this time." Violet turned, wrapping her arms around Emmaline, letting out broken sobs. Emmaline felt tears burning the brim of her eyes, and she felt like she couldn't move. "I don't want to leave you." Violet cried, her voice sounding absolutely broken.

"No," Emmaline shook her head, staying silent for a few minutes, going over different ideas in her head. "No, this can't happen. I have a plan."

"What?" Violet pulled away, looking into Emmaline's eyes. The blonde smiled and wiped away her girlfriend's tears, before pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

"How opposed are you to running away together?"


End file.
